


Young Life's Whirl

by WretchedArtifact



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WretchedArtifact/pseuds/WretchedArtifact
Summary: Yuuri and Phichit's umpteenth viewing ofThe King and the Skaterleads to an impromptu waltz lesson.
Relationships: Phichit Chulanont/Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Young Life's Whirl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



The first time Phichit and Yuuri danced together, it was impromptu, in the tiny front room of the apartment they shared. Phichit was watching the scene from _The King and the Skater_ where Arthur and the king waltzed together at a diplomatic gala, and he said, with a wistful sigh, “Why don’t people waltz anymore? It’s so romantic.”

Yuuri, who was paying more attention to his 3DS than the television, said absently, “Minako-sensei taught me to waltz.”

Phichit had met Yuuri’s old dance instructor only once, when she came to Four Continents to cheer Yuuri on. She was hilarious, but not exactly what Phichit thought of when he said _romantic_. “Was it hard to learn?” Phichit asked. 

Yuuri gave him a dry look over the top of his game. “It’s probably the easiest dance there is. You’ve watched this movie a million times, haven’t you noticed how simple the steps are?”

“I’m not paying attention to their _footwork_ ,” Phichit said. The waltzing scene was one of Phichit’s favorites because the king spent the entire time gazing into Arthur’s eyes with intense longing. It was absolutely _criminal_ that the movie ended without the two of them kissing. “Besides, you think all dances are easy. How can I trust your opinion?"

“I could teach you to waltz in ten minutes,” Yuuri said.

Phichit sat up, electrified by the very idea. “Really?” he said. He got up from the couch, assumed his most proper posture, and held his arms out, cradling the empty air in front of him. “Okay, let’s do it!”

He could tell Yuuri hadn’t actually intended for Phichit to take him seriously. He cast a conflicted look between Phichit and his 3DS, which was murmuring a low, aggressive battle melody. “Oh. Uh. Right now?”

Phichit let his posture wilt. “You’d rather play your game than spend quality time with me?”

Guilt trips worked _so_ much better on Yuuri now that they were dating. “All right, all right,” Yuuri said, pressing _pause_ and setting his 3DS down on the couch. He stood up and delicately positioned himself into the cradle of Phichit’s arms. “But we don’t have a lot of floor space. It’s going to be a really small waltz.”

Yuuri showed Phichit how to move: a box step, Yuuri’s foot gliding into the space Phichit’s foot had just vacated. It was _not_ as simple as Yuuri claimed. Within seconds, Phichit accidentally stepped on Yuuri’s foot—Yuuri brushed it off without complaint—and then Yuuri accidentally stepped on _Phichit_ _’s_ foot, which made Phichit give an outsized gasp. “Yuuri! My feet are my _instrument,_ ” he said.

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let Phichit distract him: he guided the two of them through the rotating step, their movements small on the dingy carpet of the front room. On the screen, Arthur and the king danced with longing in their eyes, making steady wheeling turns on a beautiful hardwood floor. Dancing with Yuuri couldn’t exactly match the swooning romance of the movie—they were both wearing sweatpants, for one thing—but it was romantic in its own small, particular way. Six months ago, Yuuri wouldn’t have danced with Phichit at all; he had been too shy, too reserved, too skittish in the presence of Phichit’s cheerful extroversion. It had taken a lot of careful time and effort to get to where they were now: Yuuri’s hand warm and firm on his back, their fingers softly interlaced, their bodies moving together in close, fluid synchrony. 

The music on the television swelled. Phichit glanced over at the screen just in time to catch his favorite part of the scene, when Arthur leaned in close to the king’s ear and whispered, “ _Your Majesty, there is something I must say to you, in private._ _”_ The hushed desperation in his voice always made Phichit’s heart burn with sympathetic passion. “Did I ever tell you what I don’t like about this scene?” Phichit said to Yuuri. “It’s that—”

“—they don’t kiss at the end of it,” Yuuri finished for him. “Yes, you’ve mentioned it a few times.”

Apparently Phichit had unloaded so many opinions about _The King and the Skater_ on Yuuri that he had lost track. “But I guess I understand why they don’t,” Phichit said. “You can’t kiss during a waltz. One person steps forward, the other person steps back. Your lips are always moving away from each other.”

Yuuri’s brow creased. On the next step, Phichit’s foot moved back, and Yuuri’s foot moved forward, and Yuuri broke his upright posture and leaned in. His lips caught briefly against Phichit’s, the gentlest grazing brush. When he leaned back, he looked pleased with himself. “No, see?” Yuuri said. “I think they could manage it."

The sympathetic passion in Phichit's heart shifted into something a little richer, a little deeper. It was funny how different it was to see love playing out on a screen, and then to _feel_ it, comfortable and real, a slow warm delight welling up through his bones. "But I don’t want it to be a _little_ kiss, Yuuri,” Phichit said. “I want it to be a _movie_ kiss.”

Six months ago, Yuuri wouldn’t even put his arm around Phichit when they took selfies together. But now he looked at Phichit’s lips with the air of someone assessing a particularly tricky rock wall, and on the next step he leaned in with visible determination. Phichit’s foot moved back, Yuuri’s foot moved forward, and their lips came together in a warm clasp—a kiss so perfectly executed that Phichit’s feet forgot where they were supposed to be going. Yuuri moved forward, Phichit stayed still, and the two of them stumbled into each other and almost tripped. Yuuri broke their arm position and clutched onto Phichit before he could pitch sideways and land on the coffee table. 

"Oh," Phichit said, startled and a little breathless. "Um. Oops?"

Yuuri gave him another one of those dry looks, but there was a faint blush on his face. "Maybe movie kisses are more of an advanced move," he said. 

He helped Phichit get his feet underneath him again, but by then the waltzing music on the television had stopped. The scene had shifted to back to the palace, where the king and Arthur were returning home after the gala with the royal children. “Oh, it’s almost time for Arthur’s confession!” Phichit said. “This is my favorite part!”

"They can't _all_ be your favorite part," Yuuri said, but he didn't protest when Phichit pushed him back toward the couch. The two of them settled onto adjoining cushions as Yuuri picked up his 3DS again. In an ideal world, Yuuri would curl up against Phichit's side and watch the scene with rapt absorption, but relationships were always going to require some compromise.

Phichit watched as the palace staff appeared in the hall to take the royal children to bed, leaving Arthur and the king by themselves. They looked at each other with muted intensity. _“I have feared this whole time that you were keeping secrets from me, Arthur,”_ the king said. _“But I hoped you would one day trust me enough to tell me.”_

Over the quiet melody of Yuuri’s game, Phichit heard Yuuri murmur the next line in perfect sync with Arthur: _“I trust you with my life. But I fear you would hear my secrets and think me mad.”_

Phichit leaned over and gave Yuuri a joyful sideways squeeze. "I _knew_ you loved this movie," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," Yuuri said, and even though he didn't look up from his game, his cheek was flushed and warm against Phichit's. 


End file.
